"You can't kill me, Declan."My voice comes through, and members of the Irish look my way.
"Oh, trust me. I can and I will. You're no longer useful to me."
As the recording plays, it feels like I'm reliving that moment, and I close my eyes, trying to push away the memory.
"It's against our rule. You know it."
"I don't care about the fucking rules. I'll get what I want if it means sacrificing your life."
The recording stops. "No, no, no!" Declan yells. "You both planned this," Declan loses it, looking between Liam and me. "Is this true, Finn?" Connor asks, his eyes growing serious.
"Yes," I answer simply. No more words need to be said. A grave sin has been committed.
"Are you really listening to them? I've been the one keeping this family afloat, and they just tell you that I did something, and you believe it?" Declan lashes out.
"Do you think we're fools, Declan?" Another Irish member speaks.
"This family remains afloat because of the effort of everyone." Connor steps in. "You'll step down from the head of this family, Declan. There's no sin greater than that of wanting to kill your own... and worse to start a war."
"I'm not stepping down. Finn betrayed me first. He betrayed us. All of this is a ruse to take me down!" Declan crashes out further, and we all watch. It breaks my heart and also makes me glad to see him this way.
Liam nods to the men waiting at the door. "Take him away," he says, and the men come to Declan's side. They grab his arms, and he struggles in their grip.
"Get your hands off me," he protests, but power has changed hands. He's no longer their leader.
"We'll discuss his punishment later. For now, we have a lot to discuss," Liam says, and like that, Declan is dragged out of the room. Someone who once led the table is dragged out as a prisoner because of his desire for power, because of his greed.
CHAPTER 35
Gianna
I paceback and forth in the study at the Greenhouse, chewing my bottom lip as my eyes land on the wall clock. 2:00 P.M. They've been at this for three hours now. I arrived at the estate a bit earlier than the Italians and Irish, and now, I feel like my insides are at war because I don't know how the meeting will turn out.
It should be in our favor. We have the evidence to push Declan out. Why do I still feel this much anxiety? I run my hand through my hair, tucking a few loose strands behind my ear. I wonder how Finn felt seeing Declan again. It's been a few weeks since that incident, and although he swears to me that he's doing okay, I know he still has some healing to do, both mentally and physically.
I pause, my eyes settling on the rows of bookshelves before me. I remember loving this place so much as a kid. It always looked like something out of this world. The chandelier, the lamp, and the marble floor paint the room in an ethereal glow.
Sitting on the shelves are some of my favorite books. Anytime I wanted to get away from my family, away from all the rules, I'd come here to lose myself in the pages where there weren't rules.
Anything could happen; the possibilities were endless.
I reach for a book when the door bursts open, and my heart leaps with joy when I see him.
"Finn," I whisper, and he closes the space between us in seconds, wrapping me in a warm hug. I lean into his touch, his scent filling my nostrils and healing something in me.
"It's over," he whispers, and I exhale a deep breath of relief, hugging him tight. His hand threads through my hair, patting softly as we hug. I smile against his chest, feeling a type of peace I haven't felt in a long time.
"We did it," I whisper against his chest. "What happened to Declan?" I ask. I wish I'd been there to see the look on his face when he realized he'd been cornered.
I wanted to see that sick, smug look he always wears torn from his face. He pulls away slightly, his hand still on my arm.
"He was taken away," Finn answers, gently rubbing my arm. "The Irish council will pass judgment on him. He won't bother us anymore."
I nod, feeling satisfied with the turn of things. "Are you okay?" I ask him, my eyes searching his for any sign of discomfort. For the past few weeks, I've asked that question maybe a bit too much, but I can't help myself. I'm just worried.
Finn smiles, tucking a few strands of my hair behind my ear. "I'm okay, Gianna. I promise."
I return his smile, and his hand rests on my face. We remain like that for what feels like forever, but I pull away when I hear Vito clear his throat.
